Write a story with the line “You never know a good thing until it’s gone.”

Posted in Dramatic on Jan 17, 2025

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✍️ 43 stories

“Next Time, Perhaps” by Melissa Temen

Submitted to Contest #286

“It's been a long time,” she said, “but I'd know that face anywhere.”He smiled knowingly, slowly looking up to meet her eyes. “Hey there,’ he said, “You look nice.” She let out an uneasy laugh. “No, I don’t but thank you. Life has not been kind to me. I never found my place. I’m starting to think maybe I just don’t have one.”He gently touched her face. “You will always have a place with me, my love.”“What is worse?" she asked him, "To never belong and to be alone all your life? Or to be forced to be something that I am not? You know I c...

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“The Bookie Boys” by James V

Submitted to Contest #286

“I swear to God himself, Earl Morrall should be shot, and if they need someone to do it, I’ll drive down to Baltimore right now to make sure that useless sack of shit never touches the football field again.” Isaac slammed his hand against the steering wheel, his rage bubbling over as he ranted about the Baltimore Colts’ humiliating defeat to the New York Jets in Super Bowl III. They’d lost to Joe Namath and the Jets, and Isaac wasn’t about to let it go.Ten minutes into this tirade, Louis, sitting in the passenger seat, let out a long sigh. T...

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“Where the Spiders Crawl” by Meg L

Submitted to Contest #286

Content warning: this work contains heavy themes of mental health, violence, and death. It’s blisteringly hot outside; Donovan sits on the edge of the bathtub, fingers drumming on the lip. He eyes a spider making its way gracefully up the metal tap. Someone knocks. Aunt Patricia’s voice is sad, concerned, and unwelcome: “Donovan, are you in there?" He opens the door to her frown. Her voice is thick with sympathy when she asks, “Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer, just follows her out into the garden silently. Someone is sobbing loudly, a high-...

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“No Blood, No Weapon, No Commotion ” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #286

"No Sarge, she's from Redbrook" The Policeman almost put his back out as he twisted to look up at his constable from his squat next to the body. "Redbrook?" He raised his eyebrows and surveyed Officer Cooper for any hint of a joke showing on his face. "Yeah I didn't believe it either but we did a scan of the defectors database and she came up. Name is Charlot Crester, reported missing just over six months ago. She got out and stayed under the radar for longer than I've ever seen before." Sergeant Pierce thought his officer looked impressed. ...

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“The Women's Group” by Elizabeta Zargi

Submitted to Contest #286

The room was always too quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the spaces between every word, every breath. The mismatched chairs, arranged in a half-circle around a coffee table, seemed out of place in a room meant to heal. The walls were bare, save for the occasional poster with uplifting phrases like "Hope is the first step" and "You are not alone." The women who gathered there each week were survivors—of violence, betrayal, emotional trauma. Each of them bore scars, some visible, most invisible. But they were survivors, and Clara w...

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“Tolerate It” by Sophie Nguyen

Submitted to Contest #286

Sweat was clinging onto her shirt. Her highlighters were scattered messily across the table and her papers were filled with doodles. Just one more minute. One more minute until she could finally go back home. One more minute until she could finally hang out with James. Betty hated high school, and she couldn’t wait until she graduated. The hours of homework and class made her want to curl up and listen to Taylor Swift all day. It was mid June, and the summer heat was suffocating here in Woodvale. Just one more minute. Time ...

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“BarTender” by Elizabeth Chang

Submitted to Contest #286

(TW: Implicit mention of violence, some very very mild sexual acts) You never know a good thing until it’s gone. Well, you don’t, I do. I’m reminded of it every night as I shake drinks and get soaked in sticky sodas and liquors. I hear the phrase spoken on repeat like mantra. Usually, it’s coming from a friend patting another’s back as they’re choking back sobs made of the alcohol they just got drunk off. Guys leave girls, girls leave guys, and somehow, they all find themselves at my bar, asking for the hardest liquor I own. (Well, at least ...

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“Preacher Man” by Daniel P. Douglas

Submitted to Contest #286

THE MORNING I stole my daddy’s gun, the summer heat had already baked the dew off the grass. I remember the metal felt warm when I wrapped it in my mother’s old shawl—the blue one she’d worn to church every Sunday before the preacher man came to town. Before Jenny disappeared. Before we stopped going to church altogether. Daddy kept the Colt in his bedside drawer, loaded with five shells, one chamber empty. “Safety first,” he always said, though safety seemed a strange word for a weapon that had taken three men’s lives during his days as a d...

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“A Perfect Day for a Bonfire” by Henry Harris

Submitted to Contest #286

A PERFECT DAY FOR A BONFIRE You never know a good thing until it's gone. Eli pondered that thought while musing sweet memories of his estranged wife's cooking. His mind wandered as he sat on his sofa opposite the fireplace. “What are you looking at?” Eli posed the question to the American Bully who was lying at the foot of his fireplace. He was staring at Eli as if wondering when he’d be fed his next meal. Eli took another swig from the glass of Jack Daniels before rising from his living room sofa. ...

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“The Beginning and The End” by Barbara Czinger

Submitted to Contest #286

Dear Reader, I am Aurora and if you are reading this you must be from my future. I was five when it happened. At first, we thought it would be great, AI was coming for us all and it was said to be helpful. This was 2035. My parents and I were living on a quiet cul-de-sac next to “the crazy lady” who turned out to be right. AI at first helped us to write and research. Learn things and even listen to our needs. Helping us to research or find the products we talked about in our homes, on our computers. It was great. We could AI the shit out of ...

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“A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES” by Glenna Agnew

Submitted to Contest #286

Wade Hunter picked up a handful of flat pebbles off the rocky edge of the pond and skipped the first one five times over the water's surface. Not bad! He thought to himself. I probably haven’t tried skipping stones since I was a teenager here on the farm. He stood for a few moments, basking in memories, skipping stones, and taking one long look over the old farmstead. Over the past decade, there had been no time for simple idle pastimes like skipping stones; he had been busy starting his career, building his business, and establi...

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“Billy's Tale” by Ralph Emery Barhydt

Submitted to Contest #286

Billy was very excited. Three weeks until Christmas and he had just bought the engagement ring for Candace. It was going to be his first Christmas in San Francisco. He had wrapped up his first year as a salesman in IBM's Data Processing Division (DPD) division with a huge order from Kaiser. He was giddy with pride. Candace was the prime systems engineer on the PG&E account. She worked with him on configuring the two systems. She was very artistic and together they developed a great flip chart presentation. They had reviewed it with the R...

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“Reflection on My Deathbed” by Jacqueline Salinas

Submitted to Contest #286

TW/CW: This story does mention sexual violence, infidelity, domestic problems, manipulation, death being mentioned, and some strong language. You have been warned. My room is mostly silent. Silence punctuated with the sound of the EKG machine, oxygen, and my own labored breathing. Outside of my room I can hear the hospice staff, moving about and talking with each other and other patients. If you’re lucky you get to hear a room full of people, murmurs of loved ones gathering to provide some measure of com...

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“When It Was Just Sean” by Jennifer Addison

Submitted to Contest #286

Shawna pulled into a well-lit gas station at 1:45am, praying they wouldn’t notice her transition. Not yet. Obviously, she wanted people to notice, to acknowledge her…woman-ness, but not here, not in the middle of Nowhere, East Kentucky. She just needed to get home first, then she could sort out how to…do this. How to live. She kept her head down as she pumped the gas, using her credit card at the pump to reduce personal interaction. As she waited for the gas to finish, she realized she needed to use the bathroom. She felt her anxiety r...

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“Alone on Christmas” by Miller George

Submitted to Contest #286

Daniel sat on the edge of his couch, staring at the blinking lights of a small, artificial Christmas tree he had purchased from Walmart the week before. It wasn't much—just a few feet tall, with thin branches and cheap plastic ornaments—but it was all he could manage this year. He had no energy to make it better, no heart to pretend everything was okay. The room was silent except for the hum of the heater struggling to warm the drafty apartment. Outside, snowflakes swirled under the amber glow of the streetlights, dusting the rooftops and em...

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Write a story with the line “You never know a good thing until it’s gone.”

Submissions are closed

✍️ 43 stories

“Next Time, Perhaps” by Melissa Temen

“The Bookie Boys” by James V

“Where the Spiders Crawl” by Meg L

“No Blood, No Weapon, No Commotion ” by Imogen Bird

“The Women's Group” by Elizabeta Zargi

“Tolerate It” by Sophie Nguyen

“BarTender” by Elizabeth Chang

“Preacher Man” by Daniel P. Douglas

“A Perfect Day for a Bonfire” by Henry Harris

“The Beginning and The End” by Barbara Czinger

“A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES” by Glenna Agnew

“Billy's Tale” by Ralph Emery Barhydt

“Reflection on My Deathbed” by Jacqueline Salinas

“When It Was Just Sean” by Jennifer Addison

“Alone on Christmas” by Miller George

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story about someone who must fit their entire life in a single suitcase.

Center your story around a character who’s struggling to let go.

Write a story about a cherished heirloom that has journeyed through multiple generations.

Center your story around a character who’s afraid of being forgotten.

Contest #286

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

368

Contest entries

146

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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